


Ghost Story

by TooMuchEffort



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blanket Forts, Cuddles, I tried my best, I'm bad at writing romance dammit, M/M, More Fluff, Preteen Marco and jean, Small ghost hunter AU, lots of fluff, snuggles, the relationship part is more implied i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooMuchEffort/pseuds/TooMuchEffort
Summary: "It was haunted, they said – high up on a hill and surrounded by fields populated with long over grown and centuries old gravestones; the legend was that it was once a small, humble church. Until a greedy nobleman claimed the land for himself and killed the priests of the monastery, to avoid any obstacles in the deeds to the land and the building itself."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrapeJellyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapeJellyfish/gifts).



_It was a dark and stormy night, with thunderous clouds looming ominously in the dark navy of the sky, they hung over the moon and stars like thick, draping curtains; shielding our need for the natural light to flood through cracked and unclean windows.  
_

_It was haunted, they said – high up on a hill and surrounded by fields populated with long over grown and centuries old gravestones; the legend was that it was once a small, humble church. Until a greedy nobleman claimed the land for himself and killed the priests of the monastery, to avoid any obstacles in the deeds to the land and the building itself._   
  


_Some even dare say that their bones, flesh and blood had been mixed into the buildings materials; so now the priests are angry and unsettled, hungry for their revenge upon their untimely death…_   
  


_Now, we move on to our hero of the story; paid to go into the property and check that it was safe to set foot in to remodel, and though the people paying him seemed dodgy, he needed the money to support his work and university thesis on the supernatural._   
  


_Though, not even five minutes in to his investigation, he could already feel the fair hairs on the back of his head rising, his skin breaking out into a cold sweat. He was not alone, that he could tell._   
  


_The sudden lone footsteps could be heard creaking on the floor above, dust unsettled by the disturbances and noises that the old, rotten planks guarding the attic were making. Slowly, a single beam of light reflected the dancing mist of dust and dirt; a gloved hand slowly reaching up to pull the string and bring down the stairs to the attic of the haunted mansion…_   
  


“Woah-wait wait wait wait! I thought we agreed this time that it was gonna be a haunted castle, Marco-“  
  


A young, plump little boys head peaked out from under the covers, cutting his friend off from continuing and turning on his little penguin torch that had been propped precariously on a pillow, making sure it was wound up so he could illuminate the room – Jean was supposed to fall asleep with Marco an hour before; his parents chiding them both for jumping on his bed and throwing pillows at each other since it was a school night. It had become normality for them both to sleepover whenever they wanted at each other’s homes, they were neighbours after all.  
  


However, neither of them could sleep; the two, small pre-teens had sat huddled under a mass of blankets that seemed to fall in a large clump above them both, his freckled friend finally deciding to rope Jean into making a pillow fort for them to share scary stories in. Jeans room was big enough to use his small, single bed to extend the blanket/pillow fort creation to his T.V. (Which Marco had always been jealous of Jean having in his room – “you have your own T.V?!” “Hah? I thought all the kids were able to have one?”)  
  


And just for the interruption, Jean received a hearty whack to the head, squeaking loudly.  
  


“ow-“  
  


“You can make it a haunted castle when it’s your turn to make up a story, Jean!” Came the squeaky and hushed voice from his child hood friend. The harsh light from the penguin torch shone onto half of Marco’s face, the still chubby, freckled brunette shying away and pouting.  
  


“Can I continue my story? I want to get to the good bit!”  
  


“Fine, fine – get under the blanket and keep going.” Jean replied quietly, holding up a space for Marco to wriggle under the blanket that he was currently curled up in, only turning off his small penguin torch when he was sure his friend was comfortable beside him.  
  


_Okay, the attic stairs creaked under the heavy boots that our hero wore, his eyes flashing with a sense of alertness as he directed his only light source toward the dark abyss that awaited him. Cautiously and slowly he pulled himself through the small opening that granted him access to finally see what had been causing the noises._   
  


_He knew he was the only one inside the house; so the footsteps had thoroughly spooked him. Never in his years of becoming a ghost hunter had he ever imagined the footsteps to sound so malicious – it made no sense to him._   
  


_But it only fuelled his curiosity._   
  


_Once up, he took a few soft steps forward, careful not to knock the ancient antiques that had been stuffed into the attic, seemingly flung in their final positions with no care for their value. But that’s when the attic door slammed shut behind him.  
_

_With a jolt and a cry of fear, he tried to open it up again, but to no avail-_   
  


“What? Can’t he just kick the damn thing open?!” Jean interrupted again, pouting at his friend.  
  


Marco groaned in frustration and decided to pinch Jeans cheek for cutting through his terrific storytelling, only to squeak loudly when this time the blonde retaliated; rolling over and tickling his sides.  
  


“Gah!? Jean!” He squealed, trying to kick his laughing friend off and quiet down. It didn’t work; Marco fending for himself fruitlessly as Jean continued his tickle attacks.  
  


“heh!” Jean grinned, deciding to lay off of Marco and snuggle back down into the blankets, though he pouted when his human radiator of a friend shuffled away from him warily. Brown eyes looking at Jeans hands in an untrusting manner.  
  


They finally got back to the story however, albeit a little annoying every time Jean questioned the decision making skills of Marco’s made up character. It wasn’t Marco’s fault that he was trying to base the character off of what they would both do when they grew up to be paranormal investigators.  
  


A minute later the door opened as they argued over the importance of a doll being possessed and not the old baby’s teddy bear; Jeans’ mother was standing in the door way with a furious look; her arms crossed and eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the two boys scramble to look like they had been sleeping the entire time.  
  


Needless to say, it didn’t work – they were ordered to go to bed or not be allowed to go to the small circus that was coming to town during the weekend if they didn’t get to bed that instant. The worse threat was not letting Marco come round for a sleepover during the weekend however, so they decided to leave the story for now.  
  


Jean’s little penguin torch was taken away from him that night.  
  


“hmph.” Came a little sigh of exasperation from the blonde, who had curled up in a bundle of blankets and was fiddling with the loose threads of the knitted quilt that was close to him. He didn’t like it when his mother confiscated the torch; he always had it with him, whether he was in the house, in bed or even in his school. He would always hold it so he wouldn’t be so afraid of the dark, so when it was taken off him…  
  


“You’re wriggling, Jean.” A muted whisper from his friend cut through the silence.   
  


“Huh? O-oh, I thought you were asleep…sorry.” He mumbled, watching as Marco turned to face the wide awake blonde, sighing gently. He watched as his friend – who was nothing but a darkened silhouette in the room – clamber over. Placing a finger over his lips, Marco motioned for jean to stay quiet, before snuggling close and wrapping his arms around his friend comfortingly.  
  


“Uh-“  
  


“Shh; don’t worry about the dark so much, okay?” came the tiniest whispers close to his ear. Jean blinked a few times, trying to turn over to face Marco more; only to be pulled closer until his back was flush against Marco’s chest.  
  


Despite the initial surprise of this move, he did feel…A little more comfortable than he had been moments prior.  
  


“O-okay…” He mumbled gently, relaxing and trying to focus on Marco instead of the dark enveloping them.  
  


They stayed silent after that, Jean thinking that Marco had finally managed to go to sleep, if the relaxation to the arms wrapped around him and the way his breathing had evened out were anything to go by. Slowly, the blonde blinked gently and smiled to himself, curling up and folding the blanket over them so they could stay warm throughout the night.  
  


“Hey, Jean?”  
  


The small voice brought the blonde out of his own thoughts, tiredly blinking.  
  


“Yeah?” He grumbled, hearing a small shift and chewing his lips as Marco’s forehead rested on his shoulder.  
  


“When we finish school, will we become Ghost hunters together?” He murmured gently, the blonde stilling and humming in thought.  
  


“Isn’t that what we want to do anyway?” He finally replied with, managing to turn so he could face Marco properly, his forehead connecting with his friends as he grinned, his thoughts about the dark had all but gone.  
  


“We’ll be the bestest, and most famous ghost hunters out there, don’t you dare doubt that for a second, freckles!” he claimed, his grin widening when he heard Marco chuckle.  
  


“I don’t think _‘Bestest’_ is a word, but yeah. We will be.” He heard the small whisper, his freckled friend sighing and snuggling closer.  
  


It took some time, but eventually they settled into a comfortable silence, Marco still hugging Jean and watching as the blonde slept peacefully. He smiled to himself and snuggled closer, the light dusting of pink barely showing through the dark on his freckled cheek.  
  


_‘One day…one day we’ll be the best ghost hunters in the world.’_

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this met your standards, I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with Ideas so I eventually settled on the ghost hunter au prompt that GrapeJellyFish gave me, It wasn't exact but I hope you enjoyed reading anyway! (I might actually make a full fic on this when I have the time.)


End file.
